


of new roommates and head injuries

by lesmiserablol



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Head Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesmiserablol/pseuds/lesmiserablol
Summary: “I’m just going to ask you some basic questions,” Combeferre tells him. “What’s your name?”“Courfeyrac.”“What year is it?”“2020.”“Where are we?”“Yours and Enjolras’s apartment.”“Are you single?”Courfeyrac’s eyes widen. “Do you usually ask that question?”
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	of new roommates and head injuries

“Well, that was an exciting day,” Enjolras comments, breaking the silence between him and Courfeyrac as they walk down the dark streets toward their apartment buildings.

"You could say that," Courfeyrac snorts. “I’m exhausted. I’m going home, showering, and then sleeping in tomorrow. So you better not text me until after 11am.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes. “Got it. All things considered, the protest could’ve gone much worse.”

Courfeyrac shrugs. “That’s true. It’s not like the time Feuilly had to drive half of us to the emergency room. I think our plan to keep things as peaceful as possible went pretty well, all things considered. At least I just have a killer headache instead of having to get stitches on my forehead again.”

“Your head still hurts?” Enjolras frowns. 

“I’ll be fine,” Courfeyrac shrugs. “Not the first time I’ve been knocked to the ground at the end of a protest.”

Enjolras sighs, thinking in silence for a few moments before saying, “You’re coming with me to my apartment, Courf.”

“What? I just told you my hot plans for the night! What are you going to do, call Joly over? I’m fine, Enjolras,” Courfeyrac insists.

“I’m not going to call Joly,” Enjolras answers patiently. “I’m going to introduce you to my new roommate.”

“Really?” Courfeyrac asks, a skip in his step now. He doesn’t argue when they walk past his street and continue on the path to Enjolras’s apartment. “The one you have been avoiding introducing me to all week? Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be at the protest today?”

“He was planning on it, but he got called into work at the last minute,” Enjolras says, holding the door to his building open for Courfeyrac and then following him inside as his friend leads the way up the stairs. Courfeyrac has been here so many times, he could find his way to Enjolras’s apartment if he was blindfolded. Enjolras unlocks his door and the two enter the lit apartment.

“Hey, Combeferre,” Enjolras greets, following the sound of humming into the kitchen. Courfeyrac takes a second to kick off his shoes and throw his jacket on the couch before joining them. 

Courfeyrac is going to blame his aching head for the fact that he can’t stop his jaw before it falls open. Enjolras’s new roommate is standing at the stove, dressed in blue scrubs. His dark hair looks a little messy but Courfeyrac thinks it’s perfect, and he wants to run his fingers through it. His glasses make Courfeyrac suddenly decide he has A Thing for guys in glasses now. Behind them, his warm brown eyes shine as he smiles.

“Courfeyrac, this is Combeferre, my new roommate,” Enjolras introduces, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Combeferre, this is Courfeyrac, he’s one of my oldest friends.”

“ _The_ oldest, actually,” Courfeyrac corrects, recovering from the shock of seeing the hot new roommate. “Cosette is your cousin, that doesn’t count. Nice to meet you, Combeferre.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes. 

Combeferre puts down the spatula in his hand to shake Courfeyrac’s hand. “The pleasure is mine, Courfeyrac,” he says. Courfeyrac congratulates himself for not swooning. “Excuse my appearance, I just got off a shift at the hospital.”

Courfeyrac barely stops himself from insisting that his appearance is more than acceptable. They only just met, the least he can do is let the man finish cooking his dinner before he sweeps him off his feet. “No worries. We missed you at the protest today, but I guess duty calls. Are you a doctor?”

“Not quite, I'm in my last year of med school," Combeferre answers. "I’ll definitely be at the next protest, though. Enjolras has told me all about your group, and I’m very excited to join the cause.”

Courfeyrac takes a moment to jump up on the kitchen counter and sit there. “We can’t wait to have you there.”

Combeferre smiles back at him before using the spatula to take his sandwich off the stove. He glances at Courfeyrac and Enjolras. “Do either of you want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich? Not my fanciest cooking, but I was too tired to come up with anything else.”

Courfeyrac loves grilled cheese, and he would love Combeferre to make him a grilled cheese, and he would love to taste Combeferre’s lips after they finish eating the grilled cheese. Enjolras clears his throat and Courfeyrac wonders, not for the first time, if he can read Courfeyrac’s mind.

“We’re okay, we just wanted to get your opinion,” Enjolras tells him. “Courfeyrac was knocked over earlier today and his head still hurts. I wanted to be sure it isn’t a concussion.”

Combeferre frowns in concern, his grilled cheese sandwich forgotten. “You got knocked over?”

Courfeyrac puffs his chest out a bit. “Oh, you know how it is. I’ve had worse. Anything for the cause of justice.” He doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know he is rolling his eyes again.

Combeferre smiles a bit at that. He approaches Courfeyrac, still seated on the counter. “Any vomiting, blurry vision, or nausea?”

Courfeyrac starts to shake his head, but stops at the pounding in his skull. “Not really, no.”

“Any memory loss or confusion?” Combeferre asks.

“I don’t think so?” Courfeyrac answers, running through the events of today in his head.

“I’m just going to ask you some basic questions,” Combeferre tells him. “What’s your name?”

“Courfeyrac.”

“What year is it?”

“2020.”

“Where are we?”

“Yours and Enjolras’s apartment.”

“Are you single?”

Courfeyrac’s eyes widen. “Do you usually ask that question?”

Combeferre shrugs, and there is definitely a smirk on his face. “Not usually, no. Consider it a special case.”

“Well, the answer is yes, I am single,” Courfeyrac beams. 

Combeferre looks satisfied with this response, and he holds up his index finger. “Follow my finger.”

Courfeyrac does so, and Combeferre nods. “Your pupils look normal. That is, both of them are dilated.”

“Well then, I guess you already know that I find you super attractive,” Courfeyrac tells him.

“That’s good, that means I can tell you I find you very attractive as well,” Combeferre answers smoothly. “I don’t believe you have a concussion, just be sure to take some pain medications tonight. Go home and get plenty of sleep.”

Courfeyrac barely stops himself from whining. “But I only just met you.”

“Weren’t you complaining about not wanting to come to my apartment?” Enjolras points out.

Combeferre laughs, writing something down on the notepad stuck to the fridge. “Go home, get some sleep. We can meet up for lunch tomorrow, if you’d like.”

He hands Courfeyrac the piece of paper, his number scribbled on it, and Courfeyrac does an internal fist pump. “I would like that very much.” He hops off the counter and puts his shoes on before grabbing his coat. He can’t stop grinning.

“Text us when you get home,” Enjolras calls out to him.

“You got it. See you tomorrow, Combeferre! Bye, Enjolras!”

“I knew it,” Enjolras shakes his head as the door closes behind Courfeyrac. “This is why I put off introducing the two of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked reading this! Kudos and comments make my day! I'm [here on tumblr](http://www.lesmiserablol.tumblr.com) if you ever want to talk about our barricade boys or send me fanfiction prompts :)


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